


Benefits of Introducing Your Robot to the Internet

by melanshi



Series: Side Effects of Introducing Your Robot to the Internet [2]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Elizabeth gets mentioned a bit, Gen, Memes, are any of these meme references going to make sense in a year, ennard and michael are still BEST FRIENDS tho, fake ending, idk i'm not a fortune teller, somehow through all their nonsense michael and ennard gain a Friend, there's actual PLOT in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21703105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanshi/pseuds/melanshi
Summary: In which Ennard is still a memelord, Michael makes the same mistake every horror movie character makes, and Marionette just wanted to kill William Afton.
Relationships: Michael Afton & Ennard
Series: Side Effects of Introducing Your Robot to the Internet [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564327
Comments: 7
Kudos: 151





	Benefits of Introducing Your Robot to the Internet

**Author's Note:**

> Some people apparently wanted a sequel?? So here it is I guess.

“Road work ahead?”

Michael took a deep breath, resisting the urge to lay his head down against the steering wheel. God, he did _not_ need this right now. After all, this was no time for jokes. Or, well, memes.

Adjusting the mirror to take a look at the animatronic in his backseat, he deadpanned, “Uh, yeah. I sure hope it does.”

Ennard’s eyes almost seemed to glow brighter. “It’s an old one but a good one! Right, Mikey?”

“Technically, the phrase is ‘It’s an oldie but a goodie,’ but I’ll give you it.” He hit the turn signal, checked to make sure he was clear to go, and took the exit on his right. “Also, personally I don’t consider it an _old_ meme. A bit overused, maybe. But not old.”

“The original vine is from 2016. Memes don’t have particularly long lifespans.” If they could have, they would have frowned. Instead, they opted for leaning forward towards Michael and tilting their head, a motion that, according to the internet, was reportedly effective for curiosity and concern. “Are you feeling okay? You normally love that meme.”

“What?” Michael glanced back in the mirror again, deciding against turning around. “Oh, uh, yeah.” He pulled the car to a stop, gesturing to a sole pedestrian to cross. “I’m fine.”

Ennard tilted their head and narrowed their non-droopy eye.

Their companion wasn’t looking, however. Instead, he glanced around the area, seemingly searching for the next place he needed to turn. Michael had seemed… twitchy lately. He was obviously stressed, that much Ennard could tell. About what, however, they couldn’t tell. They were not the best with body language, after all, and Michael was not the person who enjoyed voicing his worries. From what memories they had that had belonged to Elizabeth, they could safely assume it was a general Afton trait.

Realizing they weren’t going to get a response, Ennard instead opted for gazing out the window, trying to figure out where they were going. Michael had sprung the trip on them suddenly, announcing that they were taking a day trip to Hurricane, Ohio and that Ennard was definitely coming. After an… incident involving one of the neighbor’s cats (“He looked polite!”) and Michael (and the angry, cat-obsessed neighbor) not understand a cat meme, they had not been allowed to stay home alone anymore.

Anyways, as to why Michael wanted to go to Hurricane, Ennard couldn’t figure out. The first Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria had been located in Hurricane quite a while back, although the building was mostly in ruins now, as far as their Google searches could tell. The Aftons had lived in the town for a few years, although they moved shortly after the restaurant closed. Michael was never the one to be sentimental about his childhood (and a little voice inside Ennard’s head told him Elizabeth wasn’t either), which meant a visit to the old house or restaurant was likely not the purpose of the trip.

Scanning the environment produced no results. They were currently driving through a run-down part of the town, full of sketchy-looking storage companies and abandoned warehouses. Not many people seemed to be in the area, with Ennard only spotting about three and a group of teenagers smoking some sort of likely illegal substance. The teenagers eyed the car, prompting Ennard to duck down to avoid the chance of being seen. Again. Thank whatever higher being was up there that people usually don’t believe crazy old men about seeing robots chasing cats through their backyard.

Just barely a block down from the teenagers, the familiar beeping of the turn signal picked up and Michael turned the car into the tiny parking lot of a run-down warehouse. Ennard turned to look as Michael turned off the engine and leaned back in his seat for a moment. According to Ennard’s recent research into body language, he seemed tired and stressed and they sort of regretted making that vine reference now as he was clearly not in the mood.

After a minute of quiet between the two, Michael got out of the car first, closing the door surprisingly gently behind him, and made his way to the trunk. Ennard followed, glancing out first to make sure nobody was nearby to see them and then opening and closing the door with much, much more excitement than the human they accompanied.

By the time they reached the trunk, Michael had already popped it open and was digging through a duffel bag, occasionally glancing up to make sure no one (sans Ennard) was around.

“Whatcha doing, Mikey?” Ennard asked, leaning over to try to see the contents of the bag.

Michael grabbed a flashlight and a crowbar from the bag, twirling the flashlight once before clipping it onto his belt. “Being prepared. Hold this for a second.”

Ennard took the offered crowbar, watching as Michael fished a tattered purple jacket out of the trunk and threw it on.

“So…” Ennard said, eying the crowbar and the jacket with growing unease. “What are we doing here?”

Michael took the crowbar back, brushing a few specks of dust off of it, and began making his way towards the warehouse, Ennard following closely behind. “I found a lead in the search for Father. The people who work in this area have been reporting sightings of a quote-unquote ‘creature’ in the area. And their descriptions? Match up almost exactly with one of the animatronics from Freddy Fazbear’s.” Under his breath, he added, “Not sure which one though.”

He paused at the side door, taking a brief second to observe it before wedging the crowbar in between the door and the door frame and easing the door open. When he noticed Ennard’s questioning look, he shrugged. “A few of the things Father taught me are good for everyday life.”

Not wanting to question what exactly Michael thought of as “everyday life,” Ennard stayed quiet and followed them through the door.

The inside of the building was just as run down as the outside, with light bleeding through the foggy, shattered glass and illuminating the items stored within. Which just happened to be a bunch of carnival supplies. From funhouse mirrors to clown statues, the warehouse looked like a tornado uprooted a circus and dumped everything into an abandoned building in the middle of Ohio. In a way, it reminded Ennard of Circus Baby’s Entertainment and Rental. It felt just as cluttered and confining as the place anyways.

Some music was playing from somewhere off in the mess of clown cars and rigged carnival games. It was peaceful in a way and Ennard found themselves unconsciously humming along. It was a pretty song, one that they knew they had heard before but could not remember for their afterlife. Elizabeth’s soul screamed out for… someone. Someone of whom Elizabeth’s memory was foggy yet cherished.

Michael had yet to say anything or acknowledge anything around them, scanning the building for any threat, the crowbar clutched in his hands. While he didn’t seem stressed on the outside at the moment, Ennard could tell from the look in his eyes that he was nervous.

They coughed, drawing his attention, and gestured around them. “Damn, bitch, you live like this?”

A faint smile dusted across Michael’s face. “Best case scenario is no one lives here, Enny.”

The animatronic shrugged. “I know. I certainly wouldn’t want to live here either.”

This time resulted in a quiet chuckle. It brought joy to Ennard’s core that they could help destress their friend. Meme therapy, it should be a more popular thing.

“Anyways…” Michael continued. “We should probably check to see if there’s some animatronic in here or something.” He suddenly stopped, freezing up. “Hey, Enny? Did you hear that music?”

There was near silence for a second, the slight whir of Ennard’s processors being the only reminder that the animatronic was still there. And then…

“Newsflash, asshole!”

Michael spun around, almost seemed shocked at the profanity in Ennard’s exclamation.

“I’ve been hearing it the entire goddamn time!” Their grin almost seemed to widen before they realized what they said. “I’m sorry. You’re not an asshole, Mikey. You’re my best friend and I value your opinions and support.”

Michael blinked, still processing what he had just heard. Within a few seconds, a faint smile appeared on his face and he patted their shoulder. “It’s fine, Ennard. I _do_ know that meme and get what you’re saying. However, have you noticed that the music stopped?”

No sooner had he finished speaking that something slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. The crowbar, knocked out of Michael’s hands in the fall, clattered to the floor a short distance away from Ennard.

“Michael!” Ennard’s voice squeaked in panic as a black figure pinned their human friend to the ground.

The figure, a marionette-looking animatronic tilted their head as their fingers wrapped around Michael’s throat. “Aft…on…”

Michael felt around for the crowbar, only to grasp nothing but the concrete floor. With the way the Marionette had him pinned down, he couldn’t turn his head very far to get his bearings. The crowbar was out of his reach and out of his sight. In a panic, he instead opted for grabbing their wrists and attempting to remove them from his neck. Unfortunately, their animatronic nature made them ridiculously strong and durable and he couldn’t do much as black began to dance at the edges of his vision.

The Marionette leaned in close, staring down at their prisoner with angry, white pinprick eyes. “Aft…on. William… Afton.”

The voice was oddly familiar, like a long forgotten memory. Yet in his current predicament, he couldn’t place it nor did he have time to. With what little he could say, he instead grunted out, “My name… is… Michael.”

It seemed to work. The hands around his throat were removed and the Marionette sat upright, tilting their head and staring down at him. “Mich…ael?”

Neither got a chance to say anything else. Instead, Ennard did.

“Vibe check!”

The Marionette shrieked as Ennard swung the crowbar into their head, sending a large crack down the right side of their mask. They collapsed to the floor in shock but recovered quickly, scrambling away from the duo to crouch in the corner with a sound oddly akin to a hiss.

“Vibe check?” Michael asked, taking Ennard’s outstretch hand and using it to get himself up.

“A meme,” Ennard said with a shrug. “I found it on the internet a couple days ago. Still not clear what a vibe is or why you would need to check them.” They weighed the crowbar in their hands. “But still fun.”

“Yea, hitting things with a crowbar is pretty fun,” Michael agreed with a laugh.

_Crack!_

Michael stumbled, eyes wide as blood began dripping down the side of his face. He reached out for Ennard, just missing before he passed out, collapsing to the concrete floor.

Ennard dropped the crowbar in shock, letting out a robotic shriek and rushing over to their friend’s side.

Michael was completely out, a gash on the side of his head gushing blood and already looking like the area around it would bruise. A shadow fell over his body, which Ennard trailed to look upwards.

Standing over the two were a group of greasy-looking men, one of which held a baseball bat in his hands, a few drops of blood ( _Michael’s_ blood) decorating it.

Baseball bat guy grinned. “Hitting things with a bat is pretty fun too.”

Ennard lunged with a howl, but the group was prepared. One of the guys reached out, a taser in hand and struck them in the chest. Immediately, their vision began to flicker as they felt their system shut down. They fell down, just barely registering the Marionette dragging Michael away as the group surrounded them.

* * *

“—coming online.”

Ennard blinked as their eyes adjusted to the room around them. It was darker now, less light coming in through the windows, meaning they must’ve been out for a few hours by now. From what they could tell, there was a decent distance to the ground as well. They must be on the second or third floor.

The three men were standing around them. Anger filling their circuits, Ennard moved to lunge only to find they couldn’t move their legs or arms. They screamed, no sound coming out. It was then they noticed the emptiness in their throat pipe and the piece or wiring and circuitry that must be their voice box on the workbench nearby. Actually, now that they looked around, they could see pieces of robots strewn all around the room. Their eyes widened, an emotion likely known as pure terror seeping through their body.

“Aw, look,” one of the men said, leaning in uncomfortably close. “It’s _scared_!”

As much as Ennard wanted to correct him that they were “they” not “it,” the best they could settle for was a glare.

“Pretty creepy guy,” another one said. “Don’t look like Fazbear-made, if you ask me.”

The third guy, baseball bat guy, the one who had knocked Michael out, shrugged. “Probably an endoskeleton, if you ask me. And who cares who made it. It’ll still grab us a pretty penny.”

“Yeah,” the first guy said, slapping the second over the head lightly. “We’d grab even more if we still had the Puppet but _someone_ didn’t restrain it properly when they let it go back online.”

The second guy scowled. “I did restrain it! I turned my back and the damn thing was gone! If you ask me, that thing has a mind of its own.”

“This scrap heap’s little friend sure thought that of this one,” baseball bat guy added, gesturing to Ennard. “Must be a creepy robot tradition. Cool mask though. Lemme see it.”

The first guy approached nonchalantly, only to jump back when Ennard snapped at him, opening half of their face plates and letting their eyes glow just a bit brighter.

 _Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you_ , they thought.

“Careful, jackass!” The second guy said, pulling the first away from the enraged robot. “You don’t know what this thing can do.”

The first guy snapped out of his shock and glared at his companion. “Well, it can bite us with its creepy sharp teeth apparently!”

Ennard snapped at him again.

“Oh, and how were you planning on finding that out? When it bit off your arm?”

“Shut the hell up or I’ll bite something off you, asshole!”

“Hey!” Both men stopped and turned towards baseball bat guy at the sound of his voice. “Stop bickering and get work done. Who knows if that… purple guy will come back for his pet.”

As if on cue, a loud yell rang through the room.

“VIBE CHECK!”

The sound of a crowbar hitting a skull rang out through the room and baseball bat guy was out like a light. Both of his lackeys backed up, eyes wide, glancing between the newcomers and their co-robotnapper.

Standing above said robotnapper’s unconscious form, Michael Afton stood, dried blood caking half of his face and dribbled on his purple jacket, a now blood-stained crowbar held tightly in his hands. Next to him, the Marionette towered over him. They glanced between Michael and the remaining two men and hissed.

The room was silent for a second, both groups eying each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Ennard shifted uncomfortably, wanting to cheer Michael on but unable to speak.

Eventually, a grin broke out on Michael’s face and he laughed darkly, breaking the tense silence.

“Surprise, bitch,” he said. “I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.”


End file.
